Marvel imagines

Y/N tried to hold their gun steady as the dude in the suit sat at their kitchen table. He held up his hands.
"I swear," Y/N told him. "If you don't get out of here now, I'll shoot you. I'm an excellent marksman."
"I know that," a familiar voice said. "We went head to head at tournament and I'm pretty sure you cheated." Y/N lowered their gun a bit.
"Wade? Wade Wilson? What the hell are you doing in my house?"
"I need you, Y/N," Wade held a pause, for that dramatic effect he was always so fond of. "I need your help. And not with what I needed help with in summer camp." Y/N rolled their eyes as they sat down across from. They lifted their gun back up so it pointed at his chest.
"Talk Wilson."